“I’m going to miss walking to school with you,” Maud said, surprised at her own words. Annie might put on airs, but she always stuck by Maud.
“Oh, you won’t get rid of me that easily,” Annie said with a smile.
“I’m not going to let Mr. Mustard get away with this,” Maud said. “I just need to figure out how to get back at him.”
When Maud got home, no one was there, and she remembered hearing Mrs. Montgomery say something about visiting Mrs. McTaggart.
What was she going to do? She certainly didn’t want her imprisonment to start so soon—and for something that was entirely her fault. She had been both late and impertinent. Father would almost certainly take Mr. Mustard’s side; after all, her teacher was Mrs. Montgomery’s old friend and an adult. Even if things hadn’t quite gone as she’d planned, she desperately needed to finish the school year.
Maud paced in Southview the whole blustery morning, only coming downstairs to answer a knock at the door around lunchtime. The caller turned out to be a certain red-haired young man with a distracting smile. “I hope you’ll consider coming back to school, Maud,” Will said. “It will be no fun without you.”
Feeling quite daring being alone with him, Maud invited Will inside. “Would you like some tea?” she asked.
Will rubbed his hands. “I can’t stay very long. I need to be back at school.”
“Of course,” she said. “But I’d feel as though I were betraying Annie if I went back.”
“I can’t imagine you enjoying spending your day”—he stretched his arms out—“here.”
“I was just thinking that,” she said, bringing him into the parlor. “The thought of being cooped up here all day. But how can I show my face after what happened? What shall I do about Mr. Mustard?”
“I’ll stand by you.”
Surprised, Maud sat down on the sofa. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes. How incredible that her own father couldn’t say these words, but this young man—this stranger, really—was willing to help her. He was like a knight in a novel.
“I can’t let you do that!” Maud stood up abruptly. “It will get you in trouble.”
He smiled, and she found herself smiling back. “What is life without a bit of trouble? Come back with me, Maud.”
That afternoon, Maud and Will returned to school together. A smug-yet-frowning Mr. Mustard made them both stay after school because they were supposedly late.
Maud didn’t say a word for the rest of the day, which aggravated her teacher even more. No matter what Mr. Mustard did, she would nod or shake her head, making sure she was extra friendly with everyone else—even Frank and Willie M.—and was extra, extra friendly with Will, who had no trouble returning her sentiments in kind.
It had the desired effect. Mr. Mustard became angrier and angrier.
The next day when the end of day bell rang, Mr. Mustard asked Maud to stay behind. Maud listened to her classmates gathering their things.
“Miss Montgomery.” Mr. Mustard stood up from his desk and walked over to hers. She had the urge to stand up so he wouldn’t have the advantage of towering over her. “I don’t understand your behavior. I thought we had an understanding.” Maud clenched her lips together. She would not speak.
She heard the door open and close as her classmates left, one by one.
He inched closer, his nasal breath warm against her cheek. “Why won’t you speak?”
She pushed herself as far back against the wooden chair as she could. She stared at a crack in a floorboard, urging it to break open and swallow him whole.
“I’m as upset as you are that Miss McTaggart is no longer with us,” he went on. “I certainly don’t think she’s ready to teach, particularly when she acts as though she were still a child.”
There was some shuffling in the hallway, and Maud wished that one of the officers were bringing someone to the jail to, as Annie once whispered, “sleep it off.”
“You know the only reason that I keep you after school is out of my sincerest concern for your well-being.” He sat down at the adjoining desk—Annie’s desk—and leaned over to her. Maud pressed against the chair. She would not move.
“You may go, but I hope to see your manners much improved tomorrow.”
Maud couldn’t get out of the room fast enough, and when she entered the hallway, she found—to her surprise—Will leaning against the wall, arms crossed against his chest.
“Are you all right?” he whispered.
“Hello, Will,” Maud said, a little louder than was probably ladylike. It sounded even louder to her because she hadn’t spoken all afternoon.
“Hello, Maud,” he said, much louder than his previous whisper. “Shall I accompany you home?”
“That would be most kind,” she said, and mouthed, “Thank you.”
Mr. Mustard lurked in the doorway, scowling. Will approached Maud and took her books, laying them on the bench in front of their hooks. Maud’s attempt at getting her arm in her coat sleeve was in vain.
“Here,” Will said, and helped her on with her coat, his hands pausing for a moment on her shoulders before he slowly slid them down her back and away. Maud didn’t dare steal a glimpse at Mr. Mustard’s face.
A few minutes later, Will and Maud were safely away from the school, crunching through the snow.
“That man needs a good whipping,” Will said, his gloved hand grazing Maud’s sleeve as he took her books.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” Her boots made somber-looking impressions in the snow. “He is not a good teacher. He is moody and intolerant and doesn’t know what he’s doing. He whips those boys, keeps us after school for no reason”—Will lifted an eyebrow—“Well, all right; we aren’t helping matters, but he’s intolerable. No one will do anything because he’s the teacher and his rule is law. It is a wonder I’ve learned anything at all in his class.”
“I think you’ll make an excellent teacher, though,” Will said, and cleared his throat.
She turned to the frozen river. “I would be a better teacher if I’d had better instruction.”
“I promise to do what I can to help you in school,” Will said as they approached her front door.
“What about Mr. Mustard?”
“We’ll carry on much like we did today.” He leaned a little closer. “As though we are good friends.”
Were they good friends? She kept her gaze steady. “My friend Nate and I used to use a cipher code to send notes.”
Will’s expression darkened. “I’m not about to repeat things you had with another boy.”
Of course he wouldn’t. She breathed ice. “That isn’t what I meant.”
Will rubbed his hands.
“It is really something that would drive him—Mr. Mustard—mad,” she said. “And in the meantime, I’ll freeze him out. I’ll only speak to him when absolutely necessary.”
At least their plan might keep him away.